Courting
by mamika
Summary: After criminal chasing gone a bit bad, Sherlock is called into a court about his violence towards a culprit. And now he should talk his way out of a sentence. slight johnlock.


Hi Terey! I hope this is more or less what you hoped it to be (obviously I would want it to be closer to the _more_ side...) it turned out a bit different that I thought it would be... well. with any luck, have fun whilst reading!  
and sorry that the gift is a bit early, but I have only a week time anymore with my Computer and time with write before the holidays...  
enough ado, let's get the fic going

* * *

Courting

They were running down and alley, chasing a culprit like so many times before  
"Come on John!" he yelled over his shoulder when turning a corner to make sure that John would turn to the right way.  
And then behind trash cans a foot was stuck onto his way and in his rush he had no time to avoid tripping to it. He collided with the ground but hurriedly rolled to the side to get some distance between him and the attacker.  
By then John had already rounded the corner and charged at the man hovering in the alley with a wooden plank on his hands.  
"Sherlock, get up!" John yelled and tackled the man down. He scurried back to his feet, feeling a stab of pain in his leg put deciding to ignore it. John was in trouble. And just when he was about to separate the two men and put a stop to the criminal's fight there was a sharp whiz and the plank collided with John's head.  
He noticed the second when the skin on John's temple broke. He saw the blood and heard the pained grunt that escaped John's lips.

"John!" he shouted and hurriedly grabbed a hold of John, pulling him out of the man's reach. "John, are you okay?" he asked and tilted John's head to look into his eyes. The steel blue eyes were a bit unfocused but John's mind was clearly working

"He's.. getting away"  
He glanced behind him and indeed the culprit had decided to make a run for it now when he was otherwise preoccupied. He frowned and looked back at John who was struggling up "Go" he still hesitated. John glared daggers at him "Sherlock, go!"  
He let go of John and stood up, dashing after the running man. Blood was pumping in his ears and he forced his legs to move faster, to ignore the stab of pain in his thigh and the burning in his chest. He was not going to let the man escape after injuring John.

He was gaining all the time. Foot by foot. When he was close enough he grabbed the man's jacket collar and without any finesse or warning stopped running and yanked back, nearly snapping the man's neck and sending him crashing down on his back, hard.  
He felt satisfaction with watching the man wither on the ground, trying to gasp for air. The man looked up at him, tears prickling in his eyes. But the culprit did not ask for mercy.

He ignored the fact that the man could hardly breath, let alone speak. He swiftly landed a kick on his side, just where the ribs ended. It made the man cough and go into foetal position. He reached down and pulled the man up, before smacking him against a wall, pinning him there.  
Feebly the man tried to fight his hands off but he just shook the man a bit.  
"I was going to go easy on you, but no one, no one harms John" he growled. The man was pale and shivering. He easily saw the fear, terror in his eyes and face, the line of pain pinching his expression.  
And he didn't particularly care. The man was already breathing easier and that annoyed him. He stepped away from the wall and threw the man to the ground as hard as he could. The man landed with a thud and a pained groan.  
"Sherlock!"

the sound of John's voice pulled him away from the cold hard vengeance that he had allowed himself to immerse. He turned around and saw John there, leaning onto a wall, blood covering his temple and cheek, matting his hair against his skull. John's jaw was set tight and he was rigid

"Sherlock, what do you think you are doing?" John asked, sounding very displeased. He glanced at the man who was still lying on the ground, whimpering silently.

"Oh, that" he said and looked at John again "He was resisting the arrest"

"We are not the police. We don't arrest people" John said with forced calmness

despite the situation he smiled briefly. He loved how John stressed the _we_ part.  
"You should not have beaten him that bad" John said and shuffled closer. He put hands into his pockets

"He should not have hit you" he answered immediately. After a split second pause he added "and try to run away after it"

John let out a deep sigh.

"Lestrade is on his way" John walked past him and leaned down to look at the man "I really hope there is no permanent damage done"

He didn't comment to that. He knew he had avoided the most vulnerable parts. He had wanted inflict pain, not damage. The man had needed a lesson. But he figured it was best not to tell that to John. Not just because he knew John would not approve his coldbloodedness but also because he rather not have John to know how strongly he reacted to him being hurt.  
John had made it poignantly clear that he was not gay and not interested, though sometimes he did wonder if John was being fully honest. But he couldn't very well ask that because that could have very well result with John moving away from Baker Street. And he didn't want that.  
So he just stayed silent, hands in his pockets and looking at John, who was trying to make the man comfortable.  
"How is your head?" He asked, trying to sound nonchalant. John glanced at him with a frown

"It's fine." was the clipped reply

"You should have it checked" he commented but John just snorted at that. He made a mental note to make Lestrade have John checked just in case. And once he decided that, he pulled out his phone and typed a hurried text to the DI.

The police arrived shortly and both John and the culprit were taken to hospital. He would have wanted to go with John but he was not allowed. Lestrade insisted on getting his statement of what had happened first.  
By the time he was done John was already released from the hospital with just mild concussion. They met at the hospitals entrance, John coming out just as he was about to rush inside.  
They stopped and stared at each others.  
"You okay?" he asked, sounding nonchalant and feeling calmer seeing that John was walking with ease and there weren't many pained lines on his face. But John's eyes were dark

"Me? I am fine" there was a heavy silence and John walked past him to the curb "The man you beat? He is not okay"  
He walked next to John and waved them a cab.  
"I avoided all the too harmful points" he answered dismissively. John gave him a dark look  
"Why did you go that far? Couldn't you have just... I don't know... sat on him and keep him still?"

He snorted, he has to play this right. John has many times pointed out that he is not into men. He cannot risk driving John away.  
"He was extremely violent John. I had to use some violence to stop him from escaping"

John snorted back  
"What I saw was you beating a guy who was already down"

a cab pulled at the curb and he glanced at John

"Whose side are you on?" he asked. John looked taken aback and glanced around, relaxing a bit when no one was within hearing distance.  
They shuffled into the cab and stayed silent for the drive, both looking through their respective windows.  
Only once they were inside their home did John talk to him again  
"I understand that you overreacted, even though I don't know why. But this reminds me of what you did when Mrs. Hudson was attacked." their eyes met and John gives him a lopsided smile "You wanna tell me why you really beat him that bad?"  
He looked away from John, put hands into his pockets and shrugged, walking past him to the kitchen  
"It's not about sentiment John, don't be foolish. I merely wanted to minimize the time the criminal had to function. I cannot help it if his pain tolerance is above normal and rendering him harmless took more than the usual amount" he looked John " And I would appreciate it if you would not suggest on me sitting on people. That causes me to get uncomfortably close to others."

John rolled his eyes and shook his head

"I can't believe you."

Even though John says it out of exasperation it pains him anyway. But he pushes that aside. It's just sentiment, something he doesn't need nor want in his life. Deciding that they were done with their little talk he continues his way to the kitchen and prepares some tea for them. John usually does it but given the concussion he figures he could just as well do it this time. When he is done he put everything on a tray and carried it to the living room where John was sitting on the sofa.  
"What's with your leg?" John asked when he handed him a cup. He frowns and blink

"My leg? Nothing" he answered, surprised by John question "Why?"

John looked him over the rim of his cup and took a sip before answering.

"You are limping. Not much, but I can see it"

He blinked rapidly  
"Oh." he sipped his tea and stalled on answering even though he knew by John's expression that he would have to answer. "It's nothing. Must have just bumped it onto something"

He focused on drinking his tea but he felt John's stare on him. When they were done he got up from his chair to take the cups back into the kitchen. When he was taking the cup from John, John used his other hand to grab his wrist and hold him still.  
"Does it hurt?" John inquired. He scoffed and didn't answer "So it does. Let me see"  
He shook his head  
"Nah, don't even notice it" he tried to shrug it off. It wasn't a lie, it was not something that bothered him, he hadn't even registered it before John had brought it to his attention.  
"Then there is no harm showing it to me" John said. He rolled his eyes.  
"John. You just had a concussion. You need rest. See, I even made you tea because of it" he said and wiggled the cup in his hand. John sighed

"I know. And thank you for the tea. Why can't I see it?" John asked, looking him in the eyes.

"It's my leg. It's just a bruise. I can deal with it myself"

John was still frowning but let go of his wrist anyway

"Fine then" John said in a clipped tone "Good night to you Sherlock"  
He watched how John got up and trotted out of the room. When he heard the bedroom's door slam shut he finally allowed himself to sigh. He didn't want John to get tangled up into this mess. Lestrade had already told him that there was a good chance that the man would sue him. And he didn't want John to know about that, nor do something foolish trying to defend him.

OoOoOoOoOo

It was only few days later when the letter came. He was just glancing through the text, ordering him to appear before court in two weeks for a hearing about his violent behavior when John walked downstairs.  
"Morning" John said and didn't even expect a respond. He was always a bit surprised how well they got along. How differently John behaved from everyone else. He put the letter on the mantelpiece and stabbed the knife through it. Then he walked through the kitchen to his bedroom and John called after him "I'm going to the shop after work, do you need something special?"  
He stopped and turned back to John, scrutinizing him in thought. Did he need something? Should he still ask something so John wouldn't feel so bad borrowing his credit card. He always found it a but silly, he had money to spare, John didn't, and since John bought tea for both of them it was only fair that he would contribute to it by paying the groceries. When he wasn't paying Mrs. Hudson to do the shopping.  
"No" he said after a lengthy pause and swirled around, making his gown flap around him. He heard John snort and looked him over his shoulder "What?" he asked. John shook his head and smiled

"You. Always swirling dramatically around, drawing attention to yourself."

He lifted an eyebrow

"This is what I do. Just like you can't stop taking military stance every time you are in a tight spot and prepare to fight"

John shrugged and sat down the table with some toast  
"I didn't say I minded. I only find it amusing that you do it even when dressed in pajamas" John met his eyes and his eyes were glinting with amusement "though I see your collars aren't turned up"

With a dignified huff he resumed his walk and left John alone in the kitchen. But he was just faking the annoyance. He actually enjoyed that little banter with John. It was so light and harmless. He sighed. He really should try not to piss off the judge at the hearing if he wanted to stay here with John.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

He had slipped out of the apartment before John woke up on the day of the hearing. He wanted to keep John from finding out, even if it meant he had some hours to spend before meeting the judge.  
And now it was only few minutes from starting, everyone except the judge sitting on their appointed places. And John was not here. Exactly as he had wanted. He refused to admit that it felt weird not having John here. Lestrade was present though, but that was most likely because he would be questioned too. Which he found foolish since the only ones worth to be witnesses were himself, the culprit and possibly John. But it was preposterous idea that Lestrade would have come here for him. They weren't that close. They were hardly friends.  
"All rise" a man shouted and everyone stood up, he included, though he couldn't help but roll his eyes. The judge sat down and so did everyone else. He was already bored with this and the hearing hadn't even started yet.  
"The case of Mr. Strauss versus Mr. Holmes" the judge read from some paper and glanced at him over the piece of paper "Mr. Holmes, I see you don't have an attorney. If you can't afford one yourself you can be appointed with one"

He took a deep breath and willed himself to behave.

"I don't need one" he stated "I'm perfectly able to defend myself"

the culprit, apparently called Strauss snorted

"I noticed it first hand" the man said, waving a plastered arm "See what he did to me" the man continued and with his uninjured had pointed at his neck support and the plastered arm. "And I got a fractured rib too!"

He hid a smile. The fool was digging his own case. Indeed, the judge gave the man a harsh look

"Don't speak out of turn or I shall dismiss this case right away." the judge rebuked and the man fell silent.  
The prosecutor stood up and walked in front of the judge and pointed at him

"My client was viciously attacked by this man, and even though he didn't fight back at all Mr. Holmes not only smashed him to a wall but also threw him to the ground and kicked him when he was down." the prosecutor moved to point at his client "And as you can see, as a result he suffered severely, with a broken arm, fractured rib and damage to his neck"

"I see. Mr. Holmes, what can you say to your defense?"

He stood up and walked to the front, hands clasped behind his back.  
"Your Honor, I can ensure you that at no point did I broke his arm, as I couldn't get close enough with him swinging a plank around"

"A plank Mr. Holmes?" the judge asked.

"Yes. You know, those flat pieces of wood?" he asked sarcastically but swallowed his next words when the judge gave him a stern look. "But yes, he had a plank on him, which he swung around, trying to knock me out."

"Objection!" the prosecutor said "My client never swung it towards Mr Holmes."

"Only because my colleague was there to take the hit instead" he commented calmly. The judge looked at him with arched eyebrow.

"And where is this colleague of yours?" the judge inquired. He shrugged and turned to face the judge

"Regrettably he suffered a mild concussion and still sufferers occasional vertigo because of it, so it was better for his health not to be present. Besides, as I have been given to understand, this is not about him, but about my actions, of which he was unable to witness."

"Do go on" the judge said and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his well rounded belly.  
"Well, I have to admit, that even though it was not the first time chasing a criminal down the busy streets and alleys of London, it was the first time someone attacked me like that. And I was completely unarmed"

"Why do you go after criminal's if you don't have a something to protect yourself with?" the judge asked with a frown.  
"Usually I don't have to run after them, I only need to find out their identity or their hideout. And in those cases I can just trust my wit to protect me and foresee the possible dangers. But this time I underestimated this man's desperation and inclination to violence"

"My client only tripped you, and then he was trying to run away to safety, it was not his intention to injure anyone."

before the judge reacted he snapped

"If injury was not his intention, why did he grab the plank?"

"It was for his own protection, after all, you were chasing after him"

"Innocent men don't run."

"They do if they are afraid that they will be harmed."

He opened his mouth to ridicule the prosecutor but the judge hammered the table  
"Stay on the subject. I want to hear, what happened next?"  
he took a step to the side, away from the prosecutor  
"After I fell, he hit John with the plank and after I ensured that there was no severe damage to John I went to catch the assailant. He didn't want to surrender peacefully and I did what I had to do to restrain him from escaping and injuring the next person he would meet. He was wild your Honor, I tried to get a hold of him against a wall but he kept scratching and kicking me so there was really no other choice but to flip him to the ground and try to contain him there. By which point the police was already on it's way and John came to help me secure him"

"Your Honor, this man is outright lying to you!" the prosecutor screeched "He left out all the details, such as grabbing my client by the collar of his jacket in an effort to stop him, instead of simply tackling him. It was that sharp sudden tug that injured my clients neck"

The judge turned his eyes on him again.

"How do you respond?"

He sighed theatrically and lifted his hands apologetically

"I was running with all my might just to catch him, there simply was not enough speed to be able to tackle him. I am truly sorry that he got injured but I assure you there was no sign of it in the way he tried to hit me after he was back on his feet again."

"You could have just let him go though, give the police a description of him and let them do the arrest"

He blinked innocently

"But your Honor, he was danger to his surroundings. I would never be able to forgive myself if I had let him get away and allow him to attack some completely defenseless person. He was panicking and on adrenalin high. There was no knowing what he could have done." he schooled his face into concerned "What if he would have run into a mother with a small child? Hurt her or the child?" he shook his head "I may have been rash with my actions to catch him, but wouldn't you have done everything you could to stop him?"

The judge didn't answer but his eyes strayed momentarily to the culprit. He smirked internally. The judge was starting to sway from his original concept that he had exaggerated.  
"That is just speculation!" the prosecutor complained "There is no proves that my client would have harmed anyone"

"No prove?" he said and swirled towards the prosecutor "How about his wife, who has filed a divorce because his husband abused her? That she agreed not to press charges as long as he would sign the divorce?"

the judge interrupted him

"If you knew he had been violent in the past, I must ask again, why did you chase him without any protection?"

"When I received the invitation to come to the court on this day, I obviously did some research of him. I didn't know his personal matters before"

"I see" the judge said and fell silent. He felt the prosecutor's eyes shift between the judge and himself. There was a long silent. He waited with apparent ease put the prosecutor was a bit at a loss as to what to do. When he saw the first sweat drop form onto the prosecutor's temple, he made his next move.  
"And I am willing to bet my reputation that there is nothing wrong with this man's hand. I know for sure that it was fine by the time the police got to us. His ribs probably fractured when I tripped him to the..."

"Tripped? You threw him to the ground! And kicked him on his side, that's when his rib was damaged"

the judge leaned forward again

"Kicked him?" the judge's eyes bore into him and he scratched the back of his head

"I am ashamed of that your Honor, to be honest" he managed a little blush and looked down to the floor before clearing his throat and looking at the judge again, straightening his back "But I panicked. I was so terrified, thinking what he would do if I would let him get the upper hand. The only thought in my head was to get him down and keep him there" he paused and drew in a shuddering breath, letting it out shakily and flashing a bit of a sheepish smile "And at that moment I did not think what he would do to the next person he met, I was simply concerned of my own safety."

the prosecutor glared at him

"And were you injured at all? Anything else than the "friend" of yours who was concussed.

"I got away with just few scrapes on my arms and bruise to my leg." he said flippantly "they are mostly healed but if you insist I can show you the bruise" he pulled papers from his jacket's pocket "And here is a copy of the report done by the doctor who examined Watson. A prove he indeed did have a concussion on the day and time in question." he handed the papers to the judge who briefly looked through them. He watched the surprise take over the judge's face.

"This paper here... how did you get it?"  
he was enjoying this. How people swallowed his act and reacted just as he had calculated they would. Though a quick glance told that Lestrade was not buying into his act. But that was better, this way there was still little hope that the DI would shape up and learn to think and observe.  
He tilted his head to the side and frowned

"John got it from me. As you see, it says that John was checked up in a hospital"

the judge looked at him

"Yes, but I was asking about this other paper that is about Mr. Strauss's medical exam."  
"Oh" he said, sounding surprised and stepped back to the desk "Can I see?" he asked. The judge glanced at him and put the paper on his table

"It is Mr. Strauss's personal record. I cannot allow you to see it" the judge said before focusing on the paper again. Sighing in disappointment he took a few steps back, putting hands into his pockets.  
"It says here... is a list of bruises and... there is no mentions of a broken arm" the judge finally concluded and he glanced at the ceiling, grateful that it hadn't taken the whole day for the judge to read through the paper.  
He just nodded at that and looked at Strauss who had gone pale. The prosecutor looked pissed and turned to look at his client.

"I was not informed of that.." he muttered. He snorted but refrained from commenting. He was so close to winning this and for once he should just keep his comments to himself.

"I see" the judge said and put the papers to the side. "Mr Holmes, you have something more to say for your defense?"

he shook his head  
"No your Honor"

"And you?" the judge asked from the prosecutor.

"No your Honor" he said too, still glaring his client.

"Well then. I determine that Mr Holmes didn't use unnecessary force and the case is closed"

He grinned victoriously but then the judge added "But Mr. Holmes, if you ever come into court with similar charges, I will have you arrested"

He gave a small bow

"Of course" he said and then walked along the isle, nodding to Lestrade who rolled his eyes but still looked relieved and happy.

When he stepped outside, he had to stop and take a deep breath before he allowed the smile come. That had been thrilling. He had been worried that he would be caught with having stolen the papers from hospital. But he knew that if someone would ask John, he would cover from him.  
"Sherlock" a stern voice called behind him. His eyes momentarily widened and then he turned around  
"John. What are you doing here?"  
John shrugged and pushed away from the wall, coming to stand in front of him

"Lestrade told me about this hearing ages ago. I was waiting if you would graciously tell me about it yourself, but that didn't happen." John shook his head "I have no idea what your plan was but I figured I had better not mess it up for you. So I stayed here, outside."

they look into each others eyes and he swallow

"John, I just.. wanted to keep you out of it. In case it would have fell apart, I didn't want to have you accused of aiding in crime or of failing to stop a crime or something stupid."

John puckered his lips and breathed out through his nose.  
"You idiot." John muttered and he felt his brow twitch. John sounded so exasperated  
"John, I..." he started but John lifted his hand and smiled

"You are a bloody idiot. Don't you think that if you had told me what you needed, I would have helped you out?" John looked still a bit offended but there was softness in his eyes "You should know already that I will help you with whatever I can"

He allowed himself to smile a little

"Like with awful cabbies"  
John giggled and nodded

"Yes. Fine. Good example." John shifted his weight from foot to foot. Nervous, he noticed

"John." he said but John kept looking everywhere but him "John." he said again and put a hand on John's shoulder "What is wrong?"

John inhaled and straightened his back before looking at him

"Sherlock, I am sick of this" John said sternly and he felt the world sway. Was John going to leave him? Was he tired of him and his antics? Just moment ago it had seemed clear everything between them was fine. He felt cold weight in his abdomen and his mouth was dry.  
"John..?" he asked hesitantly. Seeing his distress, which he could not control, John rolled his eyes and huffed

"You git, I don't mean you. I mean this. You going alone, not letting me in on what is going on. Sherlock, I don't want to be left behind." their eyes met and John leaned closer to him "Don't ever do this again, you hear me?"

he was so relieved he acted on reflex and hugged John. Then his brains caught up with what he had done and hurriedly let go and stepped back.  
"Oh, don't let me interrupt your happy reunion" Lestrade said cheerfully when he walked out of the doors and past them, calling over his shoulder "Don't worry, I will leave you case free for the rest of the day"

"It's not like that!" John called after him and Lestrade turned around

"Is it not? Then why did Sherlock anyways kept glancing at the door, waiting for you to come? And why would you spent your day off waiting here? " Lestrade waved his hand in the air and turned away again "I mean, I am not genius like Sherlock but I am not a complete tit either"

Lestrade didn't wait for their comeback but walked to his car and got in. they stood there for a moment and then glanced at each others. John lifted an eyebrow

"Shall we go home?"

He observed John and then answered

"I'm starving. Angelo's?"

John slowly licked his lips, clearly thinking hard on something. Then his pose relaxed

"No. let's go home. I can make you my famous risotto"

He smiled

"I like that. You are surprisingly good at cooking"

John huffed  
"You had better like it. It's not that easy to make"

They walked to the side of the road and he got them a cab  
"I could help" he offered offhandedly, looking at John from the corner of his eyes. John looked at him, eyes wide and then a bright smile spread on his face.  
"First time you offer to help with homeworks"

He shrugged and they climbed into the cab  
"It's not like I wouldn't want to help you out too John. You just need to ask"

"I do ask. You just never go get the milk"

he snorted  
"That is not helping. That is being delivery boy. I mean when you really need help"

John sighed softly

"I know Sherlock. You already have"

he looked at John, who smiled lopsidedly at him. He could see what John meant, his limp, his past.  
He offered John a real smile and watched how blush spread over his cheeks.  
The moment was interrupted when John cleared his throat and looked out of the window. He leaned back on his seat, satisfied.  
He was really doubting John's statement and resolve of what he found attractive. And it would be interesting to find out how far he could push before John snapped and did something about it. He steepled his hands over his lips.  
The game was on.

* * *

No, I don't think you asked for any specific ending. it was just about writing the court part, yes? I hope I managed to deliver up to your standards...  
if you want, you can leave a comment here. anyone can.  
if not, see you in FB!  
and to all other readers, thanks for the time spent reading this, I do hope it was good.  
myself, I am rather surprised with that ending, but also liking it.


End file.
